


Mischief And Seduction

by Dristi5683



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, The Tesseract (Marvel), wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dristi5683/pseuds/Dristi5683
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has watched Jane Foster for a year, has finally met her in person, and now can't stop entering her dreams. A parallel series to Natural Selection. AU, Lokane</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this is a parallel series to my other story, Natural Selection, and this chapter might be more aptly titled: chapter 8.5, I think anyone could read and enjoy it as a standalone. Maybe. I'm so entrenched, I might not be seeing clearly anymore. You be the judge.

Loki dissolved Jane's current dream as he built her a new one. The location had to be more subtle, something that wouldn't put her on edge. Taking a shower in her room the last time was too abrupt, even for her sleeping and supposedly uninhibited brain. It was entertaining though and, as it turned out, informative.

He enjoyed teasing her, making her uncomfortable, seeing her squirm. What he didn't expect was her arousal. It was a flash of emotion, clouding her eyes and flooding her scent. Then, in the next instant, she had ended the dream.

His own resulting spark of desire was dismissed as excitement that he had unearthed a new secret of hers. Now, he wanted to see exactly what she was hiding and if he was correct in his assumption, to which he most often was, she was repressing this very thing from even herself.

The anticipation had him rushing before he caught his mistake. He'd have to strengthen the illusion he was creating. The fact he had to do so, astounded him. No one had ever broken through one of his expertly crafted spells.

He doubled, then tripled the layers of magic, weaving a tighter net to ensnare his victim. Jane Foster would not escape this one so easily.

Pine trees and snow-capped mountains made up the backdrop, a white expanse of land filled the immediate area, and a gentle night-sky with wavering green and yellow lights completed the simulacrum. The setting was from a memory of his. He'd happened upon it one evening during his travels and thought Jane would enjoy the sight: the aurora borealis.

The illusion was perfect and it was time to add the final piece: the astrophysicist herself.

With a turn of his hand, she appeared as if she were just waking from a deep sleep. She blinked and looked around her.

When her eyes locked onto him, they narrowed into slits of distrust. "Not you again."

"This is your dream, dear Jane, but I must admit you have sparked my curiosity. Why do you keep calling forth my image?" Most people spoke freely in these illusions, unsuspecting of anyone infiltrating their slumbering brains. A part of him—a very small part of him, that is—would enjoy knowing her innermost thoughts.

She looked away, then bent to touch the snow, clearly ignoring his question. "Why don't I feel the cold?"

He gave her a disappointed look. It was better to allow her to think it was a dull-witted question and let her mind accept that it was simply a flawed depiction of Norway than the truth. The lack of an uncomfortable temperature was for that exact reason: he wanted her comfortable and therefore susceptible to his influence.

"I know, I know. It's my dream." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Even here you're a giant ass."

His eyebrows rose on their own before he subdued them. Still, he said nothing. He wanted to observe her for a moment. Get a taste of her mood so he could choose the best course of action.

She patted a small bundle of snow between her hands. "I wonder, though, if this really is my dream." Without hesitation, she hurled the snowball at him.

It hit him square in the chest and exploded on impact. White flakes littered his coat as the rest drifted down to blend in with the others. He could have caught the projectile. He could have made it disappear as soon as it had left her hand. He did neither for a reason.

"Do you really want to start something you cannot finish?" he asked as he formed several snowballs and floated them around his person. He smiled, hoping she did.

"Real Loki would've outmaneuvered me." She turned away from him and looked at the mountains, then up at the sky with barely a glance. "Dream Loki is a poor substitute, just like this setting."

The snowballs fell to the ground. He would show her what a poor substitute he was.

After appearing behind her, he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her flush to him. The feel of her tender flesh pressed against his frontline, the feel of her soft curves under his hands had him stiff in a heartbeat. An urge to move his hips further into her touch nearly overwhelmed his senses and decimated his control.

His grip loosened as he battled his strange reaction to her. She was a pet, an intriguing mortal, a fleeting fascination. Nothing more.

Then why did he have to temper this odd desire?

She tore out of his surprised hold and spun on him. "Just what is your problem?"

The loss of her warmth had him leaning towards her. He jerked back and stood rigidly, not bothering to offer her an excuse, a lie, or even the truth, for he did not know what had overcome him.

"This is ridiculous. You're just my subconscious brain's attempt to get me to acknowledge my attraction to Real Loki. But it's not going to work because I'm not attracted to him."

She turned away from him again, but this time she walked down the snow-filled valley, grumbling. His hands clenched into fists. He did not like it when she—anyone, he hastily corrected himself—disregarded him.

The God of Mischief appeared directly in front of her. "Are you positive of that assertion?"

He was an unmovable boulder as she stumbled into him and fell backwards. As quick as a striking snake, he caught her. Once more his body responded as their forms connected. This was not truly her, the contact was not real, it was just an illusion, he tried to remind himself.

Her intoxicating proximity clouded his reasoning and allowed his mind to roam free.

He wondered what it would be like to graze his lips over the shell of her ear and down her neck where he'd nip and suckle the tender flesh. He wondered how she'd feel under his hands as he trailed them along her waist and ribs to explore and tease and relish the softness of her breasts. He wondered if her heart would pound with amorous intent or flutter rapidly under his touch, if her breaths would flow heavy and audible or shudder with each gasp.

The throbbing deep in his pelvis pulled him back to the present. He looked down to discover her watching him with curious and bewildered eyes. Her pupils practically consumed the gold-flecked brown irises he'd grown fond of. An alluring shade of pink tinted her cheeks as if she knew where his thoughts had been.

He backed away from her so fast she swayed in his wake. He tore at the webbing of his spell, shredded all the extra layers he now cursed for putting in place to begin with. It was taking too long.

She stepped toward him, her head tilted to the side as if she were solving a puzzle. "Loki?"

The dream vanished and he found his actual physical body just as hard as the imitation. He groaned his discontent.

He'd gone too long since using one of the courtesans. Almost a year, he realized. The exact amount of time he decided to spend every day observing her. This had to be his problem. It had nothing to do with Jane. No, it was a simple matter of repressed sexual energy.

Nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Mischief And Seduction will start to bud flowers that'll grow into lemons as my other story progresses and as their relationship develops. It, however, won't be updated on a regular schedule like Natural Selection. 
> 
> Also, thank you to my beta, DreamFlight, and my sister who helped me put this together and make it actually work. I'd throw lemons at you (because they're more appropriate and flowers would be expected) but that might hurt. Not taking into account the physical impossibility of such an act due to our great geographical distances of course. :)


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why I feel like M&S needs two author's notes when I never do that for Natural Selection. Speaking of that story, this would technically be chapter 15.5.
> 
> Alright, reader, here goes my first attempt at smut. Get out your juicer because we're making lemonade. (Ack, I'm so nervous...)

Loki needed Jane. She was the key to getting the tesseract and... that was all. He may appreciate her intelligence, her drive and passion, her unassuming beauty, but none of that meant anything. She was a means to an end. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

He just needed to calm his racing heart and still his trembling hands. Especially if he wanted to finish weaving another dream for her before she woke up.

Being in Jane's New Mexico lab made the process of building a backdrop easier. He filled it in though. Made it lived in. As if she had never left for SHIELD or Stark Tower. He remembered it clearly: the clutter of paper printouts from the multitude of scanners and equipment littering the tables and shelves. The little kitchen area. The telescope pointed out of the far window. The couch with a blanket haphazardly tossed over it. After Erik and Darcy had continued on with their lives, the lab had become more of a home to her than the trailer parked next to it.

He added the finishing touches, then located Jane's energy signature to pull her mind, her essence to the dream-world.

She materialized on the couch, exactly where he wanted her, still very much asleep. Her limbs were sprawled out with her leg thrown off the edge and her hair wild. This was a common enough scene. That is, when she actually made it to the couch, instead of simply drifting off on the table where she worked.

His feet carried him to her, as they often had when he found her like this. Back when he was assessing the level of threat she had posed to Asgard. Back before the tesseract had confined him and Thor to Midgard. Before he knew the truth of his foster family, of his true nature. That he was detestable. The monster parents told their children about at night. A Frost Giant.

He clenched his eyes shut and fought to push those thoughts to the furthest recess of his mind. Now was not the time. He needed to stay focused on his objective. The seduction of Jane Foster.

After a deep breath, he opened his eyes and studied the soft lines of her face and neck. His gaze continued downward and his lips quirked up at the sight of her ratty nightshirt. It was the antithesis of sexy, but they were her favorite and he did find them strangely alluring.

The threadbare cloth was so thin, it did little to conceal the curve of her breasts and the outline of her nipples. The length extended just to her upper thighs, exposing a bare expanse of skin down to her delicate feet and surprisingly painted toenails. Always a deep red. He didn't know when she took the time to attend to them, but he was appreciative of her efforts.

There was no questioning his attraction to this mortal. His body wanted her, to feel and taste every inch of her. And his desire had only grown since the last dream. It was becoming an unbearable urge.

An idea occurred to him to act out a normal, mundane dream of them playing house He waved his hand at the little table next to them and a steaming cup of coffee and a fruit platter filled with her favorites appeared there.

He sat on the edge of the couch and ran his fingers along the side of her face to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Jane," he said low and soft.

She stirred slightly, but did not wake.

He bent over and kissed her at the juncture of her cheek and ear. "Love," he whispered, "it's time for you to break your fast."

Her eyes flickered open, groggily at first, then rapidly at her surprise. She sat up and scooted back until the armrest blocked her retreat. He didn't try to stop her.

"Come now, Jane." He reached for the platter and plucked a strawberry from the bundle. "You wanted me to wake you so you can get back to work, but first you must eat."

When she didn't take the proffered fruit, he scooted closer to her. "Whatever is the matter? Did you have an upsetting dream?"

She only blinked at him.

He furrowed his brows. Did he not perform the spell correctly? Was only part of her here with him?

In a flash, her hand lashed out to strike him, but this he did not allow. He caught it and smiled. Then he dipped in and placed a gentle kiss on her inner wrist. "A little playtime before work, then?"

"Loki." She tried to wrench her arm free.

He tossed the strawberry to place his hand on her bare thigh as he slowly kissed his his way to her inner elbow. "Yes, love?"

She gulped and he could smell the sudden flare of her arousal and feel her pulse pounding under his fingertips. It threatened to overcome his tight control.

"Where's... where's Thor?"

He suppressed a growl of a disapproval. "The same place he always is." He grabbed her hips and pulled her down to a reclining position again. Her nightshirt rode up to his wrists and just barely exposed the black cloth of her underclothes.

She squeaked, latching onto his forearms for stability, but she didn't resist him. "And where is that?"

He sighed. "Jane, you know where. In Asgard. He is King, remember?"

"And we...?"

Sliding his hand down to her calf, he lifted it, then maneuvered himself to sit between her legs. "Are together, a couple, or whatever Midgardian term you're using now." He kissed her knee, then massaged and suckled her tender inner thighs.

"How—" She cleared her throat. "Did we..." She sucked in a breath. "And how... how long? Why—" Another gasp. "Why are we here and not in Asgard—"

Her words were cut off by a shuddering breath as he swept in and nipped at the black cloth. He needed her to stop thinking. If this was going to work, he needed her to let go.

He inhaled her distinctly feminine aroma, lush and vibrant. His fingers itched to feel the liquid silkiness of her juices accumulating at the juncture between her legs. His tongue craved to know her unique taste.

Lifting up away from her, he forced an exhale to calm himself.

"Loki, this dream is real, isn't it?"

He released her legs and leaned forward to hover over her. She looked him in the eye. Her pupils were dilated from her own arousal, but more intriguing was her curious, not accusing, gaze.

"Why did you do it? Why go to the Frost—"

He hushed her and lowered his head, just barely grazing her lips. The sliver of space crackled with sexual tension. When she licked her lips and lifted up towards him, he pulled back. Her disgruntled exhale fanned across his face and brought out his lopsided grin.

A flush formed on her cheeks and spread to her neck and under her nightshirt. He followed its emergence, wondering just how far down it went.

Her mouth opened, most likely to ask more questions. To cut her off, he swept down and took the crook of her neck in his mouth, sucking delicately on the flesh as if she were a rare succulent fruit.

A moan escaped her lips before her teeth clicked together in an attempt to stifle the amorous sound. He was hard, painfully so, and his entire being begged him to relieve the building pressure, but Loki had spent hundreds of years developing his control. He would see her undone before he allowed himself any alleviation.

He ran his tongue along her collarbone, paying extra attention to any spots her body responded to. At the same time, he slid his hand down her neck and traced the outline of her breast before circling up to her taut nipple. It strained against the fabric and reached for his touch.

He found he was quite happy to oblige. Only he shouldn't be. He was supposed to tease and torment her, not himself. His body's lascivious hunger decimated his waning control and he ended up brushing himself against her.

Her breath came out stunted and she attempted to create some space between them. Her supple frame writhed against him and nearly rendered an audible groan from low in his throat.

"Maybe we shouldn't," she said. "Maybe—"

When he brought his mouth down over her other nipple and nibbled on it through the cloth, she arched her back and pressed herself more fully against him. A shiver raked her body and another wave of those frighteningly delicious smells engulfed him.

She grasped his hand as he rubbed and tweaked her sensitive flesh. He thought she would push him away, but she surprised him instead by mashing his palm to the fullness of her breast, kneading herself through him, using him as if he was her concubine.

A groan clawed its way out of his throat. He magicked a slit down the center of her nightshirt and used his mouth to nudge apart the fabric. He worked his way down, licking and kissing and relishing the small expanse of creamy skin exposed to him.

When he reached her bellybutton, her abdomen fluttered and she said his name under her breath. It was a soft, tremulous, barely spoken word, but his sensitive ears picked it up.

The last of the fabric tore free as he ripped open her shirt and made the useless material vanish. He paused, looking for her consent.

Her hooded gaze was enough.

He ghosted a finger down her sternum and circled her breast. She was beautiful. On so many levels.

The sight of her sensuous body in such a state of unabashed desire had him as hard as his adolescent days. Whatever it was that she possessed awakened something primal within him. His heart pounded with a fervor he hadn't experienced in his thousand years of existence.

Jane watched his every move with her lower lip trapped between her teeth. He bent and snagged it from its prison, sucking on it before moving down to her nipples. She gasped and threaded her fingers through his hair.

There was no more pretense. She wanted him and he wanted her. When had he developed this yearning desire, this ravenous hunger for the little mortal? He didn't know and at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

He let all extraneous thoughts fade when his fingers located her underclothes. Without breaking his focused attentions on her pliant flesh and tantalizing peaks, his hand explored, skimmed, and molded themselves to the slopes of her hips and legs as he removed the article of clothing.

He vanished the imaginary fabric, then kissed his way down her midsection, over her hip, to the leg he held suspended for his perusal. He wanted to taste, to memorize every inch of her. He wanted to consume her.

When he made his way to her feet, he slowed down, paying them extra attention. He licked around those provocatively painted toes while rubbing away the last bits of tension she held.

He slowly worked his way back up and she crooned, nearly vibrating, as he prolonged her torment. The closer he got the more her heady scent intoxicated him. He couldn't get enough. He was greedy and possessive and insatiable.

He was also no diffident youth. The God of Mischief knew how to stay in control and savor a woman's sultry essence.

Spreading her legs so one was draped off the edge of the couch and the other wrapped around his shoulder, he lingered at the crevice between her quim and her thigh. It was a cruel thing to do, but that certainly did not stop him. A well-placed grazing touch and a heavy exhale as well as the palming of her lower abdomen, her inner thighs, her bottom, anywhere but the spot she craved had her panting, squirming, and on the verge of whimpering. Still, he waited to hear her submit fully to her desire, to him.

"Loki," she said his name as a plea, a prayer, and a curse.

He smiled and asked the same questions from their very first dream. "Do you want me, Jane?"

Her affirmation was hardly more than a husky purr.

He buried his nose in her plush curls and inhaled her aroma again. "Do you want this?" he asked against her.

The primitive guttural she emitted called to every cell in his body and engorged his already solid erection. It pulsed with each pump of his heart as if it were ready to yank him forward and search out her opening. It wanted him to plunge into her depths and have his way with her until they were both spent and satiated.

He repressed the urge, though, and delved his tongue into her heat, licking straight up to her clit in one long leisurely stroke. "Do you want more?"

Her answer was lost in her sharp breath and gyrating hips.

He fully submersed himself into pleasing her. The mellifluous sounds she made was music to his ears, her flavor the sweetest nectar, and her scent a potent aphrodisiac.

She ran her hands through his hair and wrapped her leg more tightly around him as if to trap him there. He was right where he wanted to be, though. Nothing could stop him from lavishing her with his mouth.

He flicked his tongue over her clit, then latched onto it as he slipped a finger into her, feeling her decadent walls grip him. He sucked at the nub and worked in another digit.

A murmur of approval tore from her lips as she ground into him.

He pumped his hand, curved his fingers, and tapped the spot inside her that quickly brought her to the edge. If there was any shy hesitancy before, it was nowhere in sight now. Her hypnotic panting and movements was something to behold, let alone experience firsthand. His hum of delight caused her to flush a delectable shade of pink. He cherished the color and vowed to see it on her more often.

She undulated to the rhythm he set, all grace and passion. An erotic dance just for him. Her juices flowed and he lapped up each drop while swirling the tip of his tongue around her throbbing clit.

The addition of a third finger took her fully into the throes of an orgasm. Her walls clenched around him as she gripped his hair. Her legs quivered and her breaths came in shuddering gasps.

He slowed his ministrations, then stopped when she finally melted into the couch. Lifting himself up, he gazed down at her provocative form. Not once had he seen her in such a languorous state. It was absolutely breathtaking.

"If this really is a dream and the real Loki is half as good as you, then..." her lilting voice trailed off as a pleased smile took hold. "Then I'm in serious trouble."

He placed a kiss on her bellybutton, over her heart, then on her forehead, all the while releasing his hold on the dream-spell. Hovering just above her lips, he whispered, "That, dear Jane, was but a small sample of what I have planned for you."

Then she was gone and he was left standing in her abandoned lab, painfully hard but wholly satisfied. This would work. And he found he did not mind carrying out this particular plan at all.

He touched himself over his leather breeches, recalling a naked, aroused Jane and his knees nearly buckled.

Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Peeks out from under cover* Was it okay?


	3. Chapter 3

Blackness faded into colors and shapes. Jane knew what this meant: another Dream had begun. It hadn't taken for her long to figure out they were unnatural. Logical and sequential were not apt descriptors for normal dreams. Not to mention that she remembered every detail... and every sensation.

When her surroundings cemented, she found herself standing in the middle of an upscale dressing room. It was larger than her New Mexico trailer and certainly more opulent. A plush sofa took up one of the velvet covered walls, flowers framed the mahogany door, and a chandelier sparkled overhead. It exuded dark sensuality. It reminded her of Loki.

Taking in the room, she turned and glanced at an extravagant three-way mirror before moving on. But something in the reflection made her pause. She looked again and her heart jolted.

An elegant woman of her shape, height, and coloring stared back at her. It was Jane, but not Jane. At least, not how she'd ever appeared before. Not ever so glamorous.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose updo. Her makeup highlighted her eyes and made her skin luminous. And her dress... It was worthy of the red carpet or some swanky runway. The neckline plunged into thousands of tiny emeralds encircling her waist. The cut was unusual, but very flattering, as if it was made just for her body.

She gazed down at the diaphanous gown, then ran her hands over the strange, delicate material flowing down to her feet: softer than satin and lighter than silk. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before.

"It suits you."

Jane startled at Loki's voice in her ear, at his sudden and close proximity behind her. His cool breath caressed her neck and slid over her chest. The thin fabric did nothing to protect her breasts from the chill and her nipples hardened as a result. It had nothing to do with the man—God—standing so close he brushed against her with each inhalation.

Her body yearned to lean back into him like a cat, happy to see its human. Thankfully, her mind commanded stillness. To not let him see the effect he had on her.

"You already haunt my dreams, Loki. Why haunt my waking life?" Before he could give an answer, she continued. "I know you were there during the game."

If her announcement shocked him, it didn't show. She had hoped for something. Not exactly an admission. She'd never expect the God of Mischief to be so forthcoming. But she thought maybe—

He shushed her. Shushed her! Granted it was gentle, and rather seductive, but still, he couldn't command her silence. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but he bent and kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

For once in her life, words escaped her.

His lips repeated the action again, but this time lingered on that sensitive spot. She recalled her last dream and exactly where those lips had been. Her knees weakened.

He raised his head slightly to look at her in the mirror through his eyelashes. It was not fair. He should never be allowed to give that kind of look again. It should be outlawed and dealt swift punishment.

"Loki?" She wasn't sure if it was a question or a plea. She wanted him. More than she should. More than what was appropriate, especially after he betrayed his brother, SHIELD, and her. Three degrees and she still wasn't smart enough to demand he leave her alone.

"Jane." Mischievousness colored his voice. He knew exactly the effect he had on her.

"You're going to be the death of me."

He smiled. "I'll be many things for you, but not that."

One of his hands lifted and hooked onto her shoulder strap. He moved slowly, as if to make sure she was hyper-aware of everything he did. Slipping the material off her shoulder, he trailed its course with languorous kisses.

A chill coursed through her body, making her shiver in pleasure.

She tried to distract herself by asking more questions. "What are you after? What do you expect to gain from this?"

The tips of his fingers skimmed over her arm as he moved those sinful lips to her ear. "Everything."

"What—" He took her earlobe between his teeth to suck on it and she nearly choked on her words.

When he stepped back, her body tried to follow him, but she stood her ground. Just barely.

He scanned her from head to toe, then circled her, taking every inch of her in. He stood in front of her, his gaze still raking her body. "You're stunning."

Heat bloomed in her lower belly. And, unfortunately, in her face. "Now I know you're up to something."

He laughed. "I _am_ capable of sincerity."

"You're capable of many things, alright." She meant his deceitful, plotting ways, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how they could be misinterpreted.

The smile he gave her was predatory. "Shall I show you again what I am capable of?"

That delicious feeling in her lower belly coiled tighter in anticipation.

He prowled around her, stopping directly behind her again.

She should stop this craziness.

His fingers found the fastenings on the back of her dress. He paused to look her in the eye in the mirror.

She didn't move.

He loosened the lacing before unthreading it completely. The long strand fell to the floor near their feet. Her dress gaped open in the back and a rush of cool air swept in, hardening her nipples even more. They strained against the fabric, visible for all to see.

Loki eyed them. His want evident in the intensity of his gaze. His hands grazed the bare skin of her back, so much colder than Thor's.

If his elder brother represented lightning, Loki was the chilly wind that swept in with the storm. And just as unpredictable. Lightning was lightning, mesmerizing and powerful, but the wind could be a cool balm on a sweltering day or a terrifying gale, ripping apart the land.

It was thrilling.

Her eyelids closed as his fingers glided along her ribs to find her breasts. He stepped closer to her and she felt his want in another very obvious, very solid way.

She swallowed, but stayed right where she was. She could've moved away, but her mind was intoxicated from him, her body a magnet to his. There was nowhere else she'd rather be.

When he found her nipples and teased them with skill and precision, as if he were tuned into every nerve ending there, a moan escaped her lips. She didn't know what to do with her hands. Part of her wanted to assist him. The other wanted to find him behind her. To return the favor.

"Don't move," he purred in her ear.

She bit her lip and nodded her acceptance, too afraid her voice would be shaky.

"Open your eyes."

They fluttered open and her cheeks burned all the more. The image of them in the mirror, of his hands on her, working under her dress, of her hooded eyes and parted lips was utterly provocative.

He opened his fingers and spread his hands outward, causing the top of her dress to fall down her arms and hang at her hips.

Neither of them moved.

She wanted to cringe at being exposed and gawked at, but something in his gaze stopped her. He stood there, his hands resting on her hips, observing her as if she were a rare and valuable painting.

Her breath, shallow to begin with, stuttered even more as her heart leapt to her throat. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

Her breasts were small and she had always been annoyingly self-conscious of them, no matter how much she told herself it didn't matter. She had always wondered if it bothered the men she'd been intimate with. If they ever wished she were larger.

"You are perfect," Loki said, his voice clear, ringing with sincerity.

She glanced up to find his eyes on hers'.

"Breathtaking," he added, softer than before.

Her mind blanked. She stared at him in wonder. Partly because he could read her so well, but mostly because she believed him. This wasn't about lust. This was more for him. She only wished she knew how much more.

He bowed and kissed her neck and shoulder again, then lifted her arm overhead for her to clasp the back of his neck. He watched them in the mirror, watched as her breast shifted with the movement. His other hand on her hip tightened, pressing himself against her even more.

The urge to touch herself, to touch him, to have something tangible under her fingers grew unbearable. But she stayed put, frozen in her uncertainty of wanting something she shouldn't.

His fingers glided down her forearm, over the curve of her elbow, the back of her upper arm, to her ribs and chest where he finally stayed put.

Fire scorched every place he touched. Her desire burned, throbbed, consumed her.

He went from light finger work on her nipple, to heavy kneading of her breast, to barely touching her as he traced the teardrop shape and circling to the other one, giving it equal attention.

The hand on her hip moved to her lower belly, right where it coiled and knotted in lust. It pressed into her, increasing the sensation, making her want to grind into something. In her mind, she begged him to inch lower. To relieve the building pressure.

Those hands were works of art, each long finger an evil genius, designed to torment her.

Watching him tease her half-naked form made the throbbing worsen. She squeezed her legs together to ease the sensation, but it made it worse. Holy Mother of Science, he turned her on like nothing before.

Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his hand ghosted down her belly to join the other. From there, they spread out to hook onto the gauzy dress. She waited for him to unclothe her and finally end this exquisite torture. But he paused.

Her brows creased together in consternation. She looked up from his hands, realizing she'd been honed in on them the entire time, to find his lips stretched in a lopsided grin. It was sexy. It was mischievous. It was pure Loki and it was perfect.

Without warning, he pulled the dress off of her with a quick tug. It pooled around her feet as if she stood on a lush mound of grass.

Neither of them moved, once again. They watched each other through the mirror. He scanned her body and she loved the unabashed longing he showed in his eyes, in the way he licked his lips. Whether it was purely for her benefit or an unguarded moment, she relished it.

She felt beautiful. She felt treasured.

She was a star, glowing in the night-sky. But she wanted more. She wanted to burn brighter.

After a moment of eternity, his hands lowered from where they hovered over her hips, to touch her once again. Sparks shot through her. She murmured her delight.

His hands ran along her back and shoulder blades, then her waist and hips, feeling the valleys and arcs. He traced the contours of her bottom and around the tops of her thighs. It was as if he was memorizing every inch of her. When he dipped between her inner thighs, her breath caught, but then he moved on, exploring a new area.

She groaned in disappointment.

He chuckled, but she didn't have it in her to be embarrassed. She was too consumed by the sensations filling her to care.

Her brows creased when he removed her hand from his neck, but then he lowered to one knee and kissed down the curve of her spine, veering occasionally to taste her sides. She shuddered. His lips were soft and his tongue warm. She imagined them pleasuring her to no end, taking her to the edge and over more times than she could count.

When he kissed her bottom, she yelped and jerked away, but he held onto her. Again, he chuckled at her reaction.

She gave him a stern look over her shoulder, but ended up laughing as well. Melting back into his touch, she let him do with her as he pleased.

This time, his lips found her hip and he repositioned himself more to her front.

She swallowed, envisioning him between her legs again.

He kissed the front of her thigh, then slid his hand down her leg and picked it up for him to taste the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

Fire erupted within her. The world, even the dream one, was becoming hazy with lust. She moaned her anticipation. Her fingers found his hair, burrowing into the lush strands. It excited her. Everything about him excited her.

He edged closer to the juncture of her thigh and pelvis. Then closer and closer until he was right there. The coolness of his exhalation directly against her warmth, weakened her knees.

She held her breath, waiting for the sweet torture to end.

Only, he hesitated. She nearly sighed in disappointment again. Instead, she opened her eyes, looking into the mirror at their position. Damn, if that wasn't provocative, she didn't know what was. When she noticed him looking up at her, she glanced down to see what he was up to.

They locked gazes and he said, "I do enjoy seeing you undone. Enraptured by yours truly."

"Loki." It was definitely a plea.

He gave her his trademarked mischievous grin. "Say please."

She groaned out his name, more in exasperation than ecstasy.

"Come now, Jane," he admonished her. "Do you want this?"

She bit her lip, but nodded. She wanted only to build the Einstein-Rosen bridge more than she wanted what he was offering.

"Do you want me?"

Rolling her eyes, she said yes. Because she did.

His smile morphed into something more. More real, more special. "Say it again."

With the look he was giving her, there was no way she could tease him or be annoyed by his delaying her pleasure. "I want you, Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard."

His eyes flickered for a second. A look crossed his face and she wondered what she had said wrong. But then he took her in his mouth and everything was lost to her.

He licked and sucked with no less enthusiasm than before.

Her leg wrapped around him like a boa, her hands flew to his hair again because how could she not? But mainly to keep her balance. His hands on her bottom helped. They kneaded and kept her as close to him as she could be.

Nothing existed but the sensations he filled her with. The warmth, the firework display of every nerve ending sparking, the tension, the pure, absolute need for more.

The moment she reached the brink, he jerked back, his gaze darting around the changing room.

She panted, asking what was wrong between breaths, but the world around them dissolved into white. Loki's alarmed face was the last thing she saw before she woke up.

Her body jerked upright and everything she had felt in the dream world existed in reality. She still ached for release. The throbbing was unbearable.

A thud and a creek yanked her attention away from her predicament. She turned to see Thor standing in the dim light at her desk, his hammer in one and the book she had found for him to fill the hours of boredom at his feet.

His nightly guard duties were not her idea and despite her protests, Fury wanted his asset—meaning her odd connection to the tesseract—protected, closely. It surprised her they didn't have someone stand in the shower with her, lest Loki pop in and whisk her away.

Her mind drifted back to naughtier things at the image of her and Loki in the shower, wet and naked.

"Jane?"

She collapsed back with a sigh. "I'm fine. Just a dream."

And what a dream it was. If only she could rid herself of the absurd desire still coursing through her...

She cleared her throat. "Do you think you can go get me a water?"

"I'm not sure if I should leave you. What if—"

"Please."

He nodded once and walked to the door where he paused. She thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. Light spilled into the dark room as the door opened and he quietly slipped out.

As soon as she was alone, she worked her hands under her pajamas and dipped two fingers into the slickness coating her. She rubbed her clit and gasped at the intensity of pleasure quickly overwhelming her mind and body. Her toes curled. Her heart pounded. And then an orgasm swept her up and away from her bed, her room, her self.

Reaching the climax was faster than she'd ever had by herself, but not as pleasurable as with Loki. Even in some alternate reality he was indescribable. Better than anything she'd ever imagined.

She sighed her content and flipped over to her side. As she snuggled into her pillow and sheets, drowsiness seized her, carrying her off into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to have a different, maybe unexpected, ending. Hopefully it worked while still satisfying you lovely readers. FYI, this chapter set up the next update for Natural Selection.
> 
> I don't know how people write without sisters or betas. Seriously. I don't know what I'd do without mine. Dream Flight is awesome. If you haven't read any of her stories, then you should. Go. Right now. I won't mind. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading and to everyone who takes the time to share your thoughts: you are a kind and benevolent being and I love you. lol. But seriously, thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set after the epilogue in Natural Selection where many, many years have passed since her arrival on another planet, and Jane has powers.

With the natives finally asleep, Jane settled alone amongst the cushions Loki had brought for her cave on the desert planet. Her living conditions had appalled him, which amused her and only annoyed him. 

She chuckled just thinking of how his green eyes had flashed when she gave him a hard time earlier in the day, how his jaw had ticked, how he had stalked toward her, lavished her with tantalizing kisses and touches, got her worked up to a frenzy and then vanished before she could take it a step further. The laugh turned to a soft groan as the perpetual heat in her lower belly deepened. He knew exactly how to get to her. And, this time, she knew how to get to him. 

Jane turned the Tesseract over in her hands and closed her eyes, slipping into the trance required to enter his dreams for once. 

Loki walked in the gardens of Asgard, sunlight bathing him in a soft glow that made her pause and stare. Tall, regal, skin like moonlit snow contrasting sharply with his dark features, he was simply stunning. The natural beauty of the technicolor flowers and plants paled in comparison.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" he asked, soft, mellifluous voice floating around her like a caress. 

Naked—because she had grown used to no clothing during her time on the desert planet—she stepped around a perfectly trimmed tree with a scowl. "You're not surprised I'm here." 

"I've been expecting you to learn this trick for awhile now. What took you so long?" Though he turned his face away from hers, she caught his smile. 

Walking toward him, she said, "My teacher is inept."

"Oh?"

"It's appalling, really. All he wants to do is"—she lifted his hand from a large leaf he'd been pretending to inspect and placed it on her bare breast—"touch me here. And here." She took his other hand and touched his fingers to her lips. 

His eyes darkened and his thumb rubbed her already-hard nipple, but he kept his face passive. "You should fire him then."

"Only one problem with that." She slipped one of his fingers fully in her mouth and sucked on it while pulling back. "I rather like it."

He watched her with an intensity that made the heat in her turn scolding. "Jane." His voice came out strained and yet commanding. 

Smiling, she stepped back and let his hands fall from her feverish skin. He followed her, not allowing an inch to further separate them. 

"Where are you going?" he asked, brows pulled together in confusion. 

"Find me and see for yourself." 

She used the Tesseract's magic to construct a dream-world version of her old lab back on Earth. It was a welcome sight, familiar and comfortable, even if it no longer existed in reality. 

As soon as he landed, his back to her, she bound him with invisible restraints and ran her hands over his shoulders, lean with hard muscles rippling with the effort to move. 

He turned his head to look back at her. "Now this is a surprise," he said of her binding his limbs. She'd been saving this trick for just this moment. 

Ignoring him, she slid his long overcoat off and tossed it onto her couch. She walked around him, tracing a hand across his slender waist to the front of his leather breeches. Untucking his tunic, she slipped her fingers under the soft cloth to feel the firmness of his abs, moving with his breath. 

Her heart pounded faster just touching him, just thinking about what she was going to do to him. 

Making his tunic vanish with a thought, she kissed his collarbone exactly where he liked it. The resulting moan escaping his lips had her tingling all over. She traced the midline of his torso down to the fastening of his breeches with her mouth, stopping to suck his nipples and lick the curves of the muscles lining his abdomen. 

"I want to touch you, love," he said, nearing a plea. 

Still, she ignored him.

Unfastening the button, Jane inched his trousers down just enough to expose the head of his erection, purple and glistening with precum. The tingling in her body coalesced deep into her core, forming an ache that had her clenching her thighs together. 

She licked him, enjoying the sweet taste of his juices. 

He grunted and strained against her magic to move. "Jane." This time his voice was a plea. 

Tugging his breeches all the way off his narrow hips, she caught his bulging cock as it sprung free and looked up at him with a devious smile that rivaled one of his own. 

Eyes glued to hers, he groaned and his dick twitched in her hands. She rubbed it and placed a kiss against the tip of his head, then shifted to graze her lips along his shaft, moving slowly, methodically. Once she reached the base, she skimmed her fingers over his balls and nibbled at his inner thighs. 

"You're killing me, Jane."

"Quiet, or I'll bind your mouth shut." She loved it, though, and he knew it.

Working her way back, she flattened her tongue against him, licking him languorously. She followed the wet stroke with a firmer one using her hands, reached his tip, looked up at him to find his pale cheeks pink with warmth and beads of sweat on his brow, and took him completely into her mouth.

His exhale was a full-body shudder that made her moan with delight. 

Having this power over him was a bigger turn on than she had anticipated. She clenched her thighs together again, moving her hips to stimulate her clit, and enjoyed every sound coming from Loki, every deep breath, and tremble. 

His erection hardened in her mouth, his balls tightening. She gently glided her teeth along his shaft, giving him just a touch of pain before following with a soothing caress of her tongue.

The guttural, incredibly sexy sound that came from Loki's throat made her smile against him. 

"You vixen."

She flicked the sensitive spot under the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue.

"Cruel woman."

Taking him in her mouth again, she sucked, licked, stroked until it was practically only her magic holding him up. He was fighting himself.

She pulled back. "Why are you resisting?"

"I'm not orgasming before you."

"You will."

"I will n—"

Magic cut off the word and any thereafter. "Now, you will do as I say or I will have to teach you a lesson."

He lowered his brows at her, as if daring her to follow through with the threat. 

An invisible force swatted him on the bottom, just hard enough for him to know she meant what she'd said. 

His eyes widened, but his erection twitched and a large bead of precum seeped out. 

Exhilarated, she swatted him again with magic and slipped her lips around his dick, sucking him harder, faster, while lightly tugging his balls down. In moments, his warm cum filled her mouth, and she stood with a satisfied smirk.

Letting go of the magic binding his limbs, she said, "Good boy."

His eyes darkened. "You are going to pay for that, my dear."

The room spun, colors and shapes blending together until she nearly swayed from the effect. In a flash, her surroundings solidified into his bed chambers on Asgard. 

Sunlight and wind streamed in through the open windows, fluttering the drapes and pebbling her skin with goosebumps. Staying true to her oath, she hadn't left the desert planet, but she was as familiar with his dream-world room as she was with her real-life cave. 

"Loki?" She turned in the massive space and found herself alone. Pursing her swollen lips, she said, "I guess I'll just leave then."

When he appeared next to her, she smiled in victory, but he snatched her up and tossed her on the cloud-like bed. Her breath caught in her throat from the suddenness of his playful attack. 

"I am true to my word, love." He climbed over her, binding her wrists and ankles with golden snakes that writhed sensuously against her skin. "You will pay for your transgressions."

"I certainly hope so."

She snickered when he grumbled at her answer. 

"Careful," he said warningly. 

Before she could respond, he kissed her, sealing his lips to hers. He explored her mouth as fully as his hands explored her body: fingers grazing over her tender nipples, knuckles tracing the outline of her breasts, hands splaying across her waist and hips, nails skimming up her inner thighs before ghosting over the warm, sensitive flesh of her core. 

He kept his touches light, teasing. She arched her back, then lifted her hips to meet him more fully, but he always managed to escape her attempts. 

"You want me, love?" he asked. 

"Always."

He positioned himself between her legs, his erection pressing against her. The slight pressure at her entrance nearly drove her mad. She jerked her legs, pulled at her arm restraints, but neither would give. 

"Loki Odinson," she said, giving him a stern look. "If you don't fill me this instant, I will have your hide."

"Why, Jane, I do not believe you are in any position to command such a thing." 

With a mischievous grin, he bent over her and nuzzled into the crook of her neck—her favorite spot. Her toes curled and her eyes fluttered closed. When the sensations bordered a tickle, she squirmed underneath him. 

He made a strangled noise. "I love it when you do that."

Pressing kisses along her collarbone, he worked his way down to a nipple and captured it in his mouth. He rolled his tongue over the bud and sucked and nipped at it gently. Shockwaves coursed through her body, time and time again. 

When he was done tormenting her, she dragged in a ragged breath. "Please," she rasped.

He turned his ear to her. "What was that?"

"Please," she said firmly. "I don't think I can take much more."

Supporting himself with one hand, he gripped his cock and slid it up and down her folds, no doubt readying himself. At least, he better be. 

If she wasn't soaked before, then she most certainly was now. He would slip right in no prob— She bit back a moan as he eased into her, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, still teasing, taunting. She wanted to buck her hips, grab his ass, and pull him flush to her. If he didn't soon, she would whimper, and he would only move that much slower, taking pleasure in making her suffer. 

He paused, and, despite her best efforts, she whimpered. 

Looking up to shoot him a glare, she instead swallowed hard. He gazed at her with such tenderness and love that her ire shrunk to nothing and her heart swelled to bursting. 

"I am yours, Jane Foster." He bent to kiss her, sweet and unhurried but sensual and eager, as if he were trying to show his love for her with each touch of his tongue and lips. Not breaking contact, he added, "Always and forever."

And then he pushed himself fully into her. 

She exhaled his name, a breathy whisper that made him shudder. The feeling of him inside her was pure bliss, satisfying the constant need to be with him. After a thousand years of thinking he would never find her and then him doing just that, she did not want to go a day without his long fingers caressing her skin, his soft lips planting kisses on every inch of her body, his hips meeting hers. 

They moved together, familiar and exact as if it were their thousandth time, yet filled with passion as if it were their first. 

His muscles tensed and corded as he held himself up and thrust into her, long strokes from head to base, rubbing against her clit with a roll of his pelvis that had her groaning. His balls slapping against her only added to the euphoria. 

Awareness of time slipped away. Sensation was all that was left: his thick cock gliding in and out. Her nipples hard, straining from her arousal. In and out. His heat mingling with hers. In and out. Sweat coating her skin. In and out. Pressure building deep in her belly. In and out. Pulse quickening. In and out. Panting. In and out. In and out. 

Her orgasm came in a vibrating wave, starting at her feet, coursing up her back, and flowing to the top of her head. Ecstasy brought every inch of her to life. The finale of a grand fireworks show, the crescendo of a masterful symphony, the conquering of Mount Everest couldn't compare to the rapturous place Loki had brought her. 

The snakes disappeared as he lowered himself to her, just as spent and sweaty. She wrapped her shaky arms and legs around him, cherishing him, telling him that she was his, always and forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still incredibly shy writing smut. It was hard for me to reread my own work for editing purposes, let alone listen to my sister read it. (It's what we always do, to hear the flow and whatnot.) I don't know how many times I covered my face and blushed, even though no one was there. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! It's a year late, but better late than never. :)


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